The Prodigy
by mysticwryter
Summary: Cara's nightmares bring unanswered questions. Will she be able to find her answers within the man with the dirty sweater? *I'm horrible with summaries** ***R&R***Rated M for language and all that good rot.
1. Chapter 1

****This is based on a song that has been in my head all week so please bare with me that this is not only my first story but my shot at poetry for about 3 years****

_what have you done to me?  
a haze of pain as memories twist.  
once we shared innocence,  
hand in hand and open,  
but your desire drifted away.  
a horrific fever of hatred -  
emotions follow memory, follow hate,  
love condemned.  
in a storm of bitterness,  
i still love you._

_"Untitled" by Mysticwryter_

The sound of children laughter fills the yard of a pre-school. A boy and a girl are running past the swing-sets, giggling and squealing. Other children are playing hopscotch, jump rope, and admiring the settings around them. There is one girl who was sitting on the curb, holding herself by her knees as she watched other children play games. She was the loner, "Cutting Caroline" as they children called her, making fun of the scars she had upon her wrists and ankles. She stifled a sniffle when a man appeared at her side, and sat calmly next to her. He rubbed her back gently and bent down to see her face. He wiped her tears with his sweater and she looked him into his eyes. His ice-blue eyes sent chills down her legs and the goosebumps appeared on her arms.

"What's the matter?" the kind man's voice said, "are they making fun of you for your scars?" She nodded slowly and felt the his smooth rub on her back stop. He picked her face up and held them in his hands. "Come with me, I'll show you that you are a very special girl." He held out his hand and she grabbed it walking with the man towards a building adjacent to the pre-school. What seemed like a maze full of halls, stairs and darkness, they reached the destination which was a small room, off from a furnace. The heat was there as it was hard to breathe and Caroline felt hot and felt the sweat begin to fall from her pores on her back and nose. He motioned her to sit down on the mattress and he began to rummage through boxes. Caroline looked around and saw pictures of monsters, sunshine that other school mates have drawn. Some of them had black line through them, as if they were crossed out. While admiring the colors of every picture. The man came from behind her and put his hand on her shoulder and 2 knife fingers on the other. Caroline's eyes began to widen and felt a small smile stretch across her face. The man smiled to as his face began to burn. The flames stretched from the collar of his sweater and engulfed his entire head. His brown hair withered in the fire, and his skin began to melt. The fires ceased and left him with a burned face but those icy-blue eyes, began to glow and he began to cackle loudly, showing his rotting teeth.

"NO!" screamed Cara, sitting in class as she awaken in English. The other students began to giggle and snicker as she looked around. Her teacher, Mr. Barnes, stared her down and she knew that she was in deep shit. "Ms. Camp, I appreciate that you decided to join in the class discussion, but we went over Hamlet last week. We are now on Othello, and we haven't even begun to read. Please see me after class." Mr. Barnes returned to the rest of his class and ended his lesson. Caroline felt the redness starting to build within her cheeks and she sat there fuming at herself for falling asleep in class. The bell rang and she gathered her backpack and quickly left the room. She walked slowly to her locker, adjusting her glasses as she went past. Finally at her locker, she opened carefully but was soon closed by Turner, her enemy. Turner was the class president along with homecoming king, valedictorian and every single other title within the high school. He brood as he walked through the hall ways and girls would giggle and stare in wonder at him. Caroline always thought of him to be somewhat of a queer with his ways. She would seem him with his group of buddies and more, but they would all be male. He never had a girlfriend or even talked to one for more that 5 minutes, other than Caroline.

"Let me have my physics homework, bitch." Turner demanded from her. She looked up at him, and smiled. Caroline never wanted confrontation or any violence while she was in school. She reached into her locker and grabbed the papers. He snatched them out of her hands. "Wow, you actually took the time to do the work. Cutting Caroline actually spent time on this rather than on herself," Turner replied as he looked up and down Caroline. Her red hair pulled back into a bun down to her neck, revealing a black bra strap from her red tank-top. Her hoodie wrapped around her tiny waist to her dirty jeans, down to her ripped up tennis shoes. He got closer to her face and finally said "You know, for a girl, you sure look like a boy." She looked back into his eyes and felt his pride begin to take hold as his friends "oooed" around him.

"Well, Turner. I'm sorry you feel that way. Because even though I don't have all the medals, trophies or titles, at least I have the balls to be able to withstand pain." His eyes grew big and he let out a groan as her broken tennis shoe met with his groin. She felt his balls land on top of her shoe and she pushed up into his pelvis. She slammed her locker and ran down the hallway toward the outside doors. His buddies crowed around Turner as he gasped for air. "I'm...goin...to...fucking...kill...her," he said gasping for air. His buddies helped him up and took him toward the nurse's station.

Caroline ran down the street and finally stopped at the stop sign where her bus was suppose to be, but again she missed the bus and would have to walk home. She dropped her backpack and untied her hoodie from her waist. She pulled the hoodie down over her head and then started to walk, with her backpack dragging into the dirt. Cara couldn't stop thinking about her encounter with tis man as she walked down the sidewalk toward her house. The cool mid-october breeze, blew through the red and yellow leaves on the trees and on the ground. Her shoes suffled through them, crunching and lifting them up from the ground. She felt a familiar presence when she was holding his hand, or rubbing her back. She walked slowly trying to put pieces of the dream together. Why woudl she be dreaming about a man who had razor finger? Why were there pictures drawn by children on the wall? With the more questions she needed answered, she felt overwhelmed and her head began to ache.

She reached her house on the corner of Elm St. and Walnut Ave. Her house was inviting with warm yellows and cremes. Her windows were open and she could see her white curtains billowing in the openings. Cara blew out a sigh as she walked up the pathway toward her front door. She opened the door and was greeted with the smell of vanila and lavender; a smell she grew acustomed to when it was her grandmother's. Now that Cara had the house to herself after the passing of her grandmother, she never felt alone.

I'm home, Mammaw," Cara called out as she closed the door. Since it was only two years ago that she said goodbye, she found it comforting to call out her presence, but she also knew her greeting would never be answered. She dropped her backpack on the bottom step and proceeded up the wooden stairs. The cool wooden steps creaked as she ascended up to her bedroom; sanctuary. She opened the door to her disheveled bed full of pink and black bedsheets and her brown fluffy teddybear leaning up against her black pillows. Her room was a mess with clothes strewn all over the floor and desk. All Cara could do was chuckle. She fell onto her bed gracefully and was caught by the fluffliness of her bed. She took her cell phone from her front pocket and placed it on her pilow as she felt the overcumbering effect of sleep.

"Maybe an hour will get rid of this headache," she said to herself as her eyelids fell.

Cara found herself outside a vacant building with glass windows broken and cracked. She was surrounded by weeds and ash. The creeking of steel reverberated off of the buildings. Suddently a loud boom came through Cara's ears as she turned to find a door bouncing back from being opened. She slowly walked toward the door and entered cautiously. She cleared door and the door slamed loudly. Cara scrambled to open the door but she was not able to open it, like as if it was jammed. She heard faint humming and giggling behind her and slowly turned. Sitting silently upon the echos of the stairwell of an abandoned building sits a lonely child playing with a doll with it's hair burned and singed. She combs the dolls hair with her fingers, blackened by ash and soot. Her little blue dress, once pretty and brilliant, was dull, ripped across her chest with 4 blades from shoulder to rib. She sat there and looked up as her innocent face went from a sad frown to a grin of happiness. She got up and quickly hopped up the stairs, one at a time, toward another darken hallway. Her giggling could be heard reverberating off of the walls. All of a sudden a strange sound filled the air, bellowing from every corner of the stairwell...SCRREEEEEEECCCCHHH. Sparks flew as the sparks crawled up the handrail toward the hallway where the girl skipped, giggling joyfully.

"Here little piggy," a horrible sound bellowed in the air. The raspy whisper of his voice silenced everything around him. He slowly stalked into the darken hallway and all was silent. No footsteps could be heard, no breathing; just the sound of silence.

"AAAAAHHHHH!," screamed the little girl followed by the shrieking sound of blades hitting metal and back into a soft squishy, wet material, like raw meat hitting the ground. Soon the raspy voice called into the stairwell but this time was of a joyous horror. He was laughing.

He walked back into the dim light of the stairwell cleaning his hand with his sweater. He looked down and saw Cara, staring back at him, in full fear. Her hands shook violently at her sides as she tried to keep herself still. "How sweet...fresh meat." He started walking toward the stairwell, taking the steps slowly as he sulked toward Cara. She was far back as she could be, meeting the wall with a loud thud from her back. His hand was dressed in blades one on each finger. His face burned and seeping with pus and blood from blisters along his cheeks. His hat, brown and torn, covered his eyes. She wanted to know so badly to see what this thing walking toward her, even more excited as he approached her. He looked up and she saw the icy blue eyes that sent chills up and down her spine. He cocked his head to the side, staring into her green eyes. His eyes widen as he felt her fear radiate off of her.

"What's a matter, Cara. Cat got your tongue?, " He said looking down at her partly open mouth, exposing the top parts of bottom row teeth.

"Who are you?," she finally said after trying to control the fear within her voice; it was to no avail. "You'll know soon enough, little piggy," he replied taking his bladed hand outlining the curves of her jaw down the side of her neck. She cringed and felt the tears well in her eyes. The finally fell and landed on one of his blades. With a smile he licked the tears from his blades. His blade went back to her face, how he wanted to feel her skin rip, feel the inside give way under his blades. He nicked her cheek as he drew the blade across. Cara whimpered at the pain, but was grabbed soon by his burned hands. She felt the rough grip of his skin brush her soft petite arms.

"You wanna know the secret of pain? If you just stop feeling it, you can start using it". He giggled as he raised his blade, showing the thin blood trail across the edge. "You and I are gonna have some fun," he whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

**** That's just a start but it was only a test to what I can work on. Let me know what you think.****


	2. Chapter 2

Cara woke within the confinds of her bed, dripping with sweat, panting for air. She looked around and realized she was awake, safe and away from that creepy man. She crawled out of bed and walked to her bathroom to wash her face from the sweat. Suddently she sucked in air quickly as the sweat flowed down her cheeks. She looked into the mirror and her eyes grew wide and she saw a small cut across her cheekbone. She stared in wonder, trying to piece together how would a cut in a dream show on her face now? She shook her head and dried her face off, turned the light out and returned to bed. As she layed trying to sleep, she wanted to know who that was; this thing who was very familiar with her not only by name but by body.

Cara woke to her phone_,"I heard your married to your house carpenter. Your love will never be mine..." _She held the phone up and saw that her only brother, Mark was calling.

"Yeah?" she replied groggy.

"What in the hell are you doing still in bed? You do know I'm on my way to pick your ass up?"

"Pick me up, for what?" questioned Cara.

She heard the impatience in Mark's voice. "You forgot already. Damnit Caroline, I told you I had to pick you up to help me with my engagement to Teresa. As always you tend to forget everything." Mark sighed after ranting to his little sister. Cara squinted and tried to remember, finally she did.

"FUCK! I'm so sorry Mark. I'm getting up now and getting dressed. I'll be ready in 5 minutes." She hung up the phone and rushed out of bed and ran to her closet. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a green tank top with a white overshirt she tied in front. She brushed her red flowing hair frantically, running into self-made tangles which made her growl in pain. She sprayed some musky vanilla body mist and grabbed her purse and dashed out of her room. She jumped the stairs and landed on her feet in front of the door. Putting on her shoes, she was out the door with Mark waiting on her in front of the house. She jumped into his blue convertible and he took off, squealing his tires as he acelerated.

"Cara, you have gotta get something straight here," Mark explained, "Whether you are huffing duster or smoking too much reefer, you have to realize that when I ask you of something I put full confidence in you. When you let me down, you always have the same reasoning; 'oh I forgot' and that really pisses me off. You are my little sister and I love you, but your memory needs to be rekindled."

"I guess so, Mark," replied Cara as she stared at her hands in her lap. She knew that she had a problems since she was younger. Ever since she left the pre-school in Springfield, she couldn't remember hardly anything when she was younger. Her birthday parties, if she had any or anything that seemed to be a blur.

The drive seemed like forever and Cara felt herself drifting into sleep. The motion of the ride was relaxing. The vibrations from the road put her into a trance that felt like she was floating. Her eyelids began to fall but she soon caught them. The air was different; feeling rather thick and humid.

"Hey, Mark, when were we suppose to get rain?It just got really humid." She looked down at her lap and saw drops of blood on her jeans. She checked her face and saw her cheek was open and seeping blood.

"What's a matter, Cara...hot enough for you?" asked the raspy voice. Cara turned and screamed as she saw the same brown fedora hat turned down onto his face. Terrified she gazed upon the burns and smooth skin that was erie to the eye. His scared hand was gripping the steering wheel of what was suppose to be a convertible, now looked like a torture trap, full of straps and spikes. The backseat was a hole with burning embers surrounding, with steam bellowing from the bottom. She gathered legs and bent them to be in the seat. She felt his gloved hand grab the back of her soft hair. She yelped and tried to take his hand away. but he flicked his index finger cutting the bottom part of her hand. She pulled it back and cradled her injured hand in front of her.

"Do you remember me now, piggy?" he asked horsely.

"Wh-Who are you?," she asked shaking. He laughed boastfully and tossed his head back, revealing his ice blue eyes looking up into the abyss of nothing.

"Ya know, bitch? I'll give you a freebee this time. Next you better know who I am or I'll dig enough into your head, that it would be impossible to forget me." He pulled her closer, close enough she felt his horrid breath up on her nostrils. He studied her face. "My name ...is Freddy Kruegar; the man of your dreams." He licked her cheek and felt the sting of his acid-like salive hit her cut. She whimpered in his grasp and he chuckled to her pain.

"Next time, you better know me. I've got something in store for you. Time to wake up, princess. Your brother wants you." With the flick of his blades she woke up to Mark, talking to his fiance on his cell phone.

"Yeah, babe. I got her with me. We are just caught up in traffic. I'll be there soon. I love you, too." He hung up the phone and looked over at Cara, who was tending to her cheek.

"What did you do to your cheek?That looks real bad,"

"Oh, it's nothing. I hurt it when I was trying to move things around in the house," she replied, thinking of something more elaborate to cover for the real reason. She turned her head toward the outside world, flying pass her at 80 mph. She knew that today was not going to be her day.


	3. Chapter 3

Mark pulled into a long driveway that was covered with willow trees, with its limbs fallen over the ground and gravel. The tires crunched the rocks underneath as they proceeded down the long strech of lane. They slowly crested to see Teresa's house, ivory white and covered in english ivy. Cara was amazed at the beauty of the vines, twisting and turning within the corners of the house, creeping onto the porch, twisting down the pillars. Cara saw her blue Land Rover in the driveway and rolled her eyes. Mark and Teresa are oposites; she comes from a family full of wealth and power while Mark only came from a middle-class family who still fought to keep money in their pockets. Teresa found Mark when she was working for the newspaper, striving to be a star on the televised news. Mark was the camera operator and cue director. The rest was history. Now, they decided to announce their engagement through a ravenous party, supported by her parents of course, to show to everyone that Mark was hers. The thought of Mark and Teresa together make Cara quiver in disgust.

The parked in front of the main stairs leading to the front porch. Not within two seconds of exiting the car, Teresa came out bellowing her where-have-you-been and I-almost-died-without-you grand entrace. Mark smiled and greeted her with a strong hug and kiss. Cara could see that Teresa was trying to shove her thick tongue down her brother's throat and seeing Mark cringe in shock and disgust. Cara smiled at the failed attempt of a pasionate kiss.

"Where have you been, pookie?" Teresa asked in her baby-like voice, "I thought you were suppose to be here an hour ago." Mark looked at Cara and gave her the wide stare. Teresa looked over at Cara and turned up her nose.

"Oh...well, at least you are here. That's all that matters. Well Caroline, I see that you haven't dressed for the occasion." Cara looked down at her outfit and looked back up "What's wrong with it?"

"Well this is a formal gathering and you are not within the dressing. I'll help you get dress; head up to my room." demanded Teresa and pointed toward the front shook her head ever so slightly and walked up toward the door. For some odd reason she felt more of a burden than a sister to Mark.

When she was little, she would cry if a butterfly seemed to fall onto her shoulder or her hair. Mark was always there to see that nothing went wrong with her and cared for every part of her that was suposebly hurt. Cara remembered when Mark was there to mend her broken arm when she fell from the neighborhood tree. Even then he showed a bit of concern for her. Now with Teresa in his life, his sense of protection over Cara dwindled. For 4 years now, she hasn't had a good converstaion with her brother, not able to hold up 5 minutes of actual talking...just silence. With that came the distance came. Now it seems that even when Cara's name is mentioned to Mark, he sighs and hangs his head.

Cara walked up the spiral staircase to Teresa's bedroom. Cara's nausea grew as she stared into a prime white and baby pink room. The walls were pink; the furntiture was pink; the carpet was even pink. Her bed sheets were startch white and nothing but silk and lace. Cara let out a hugh sigh and sat upon the pristine bed. What seemed to be over an hour, Teresa finally walked in and closed the door behind her.

"Why are you wearing that? You know that my parents are on their way here and they can't see that their son-in-law's sister is such a pig. Here, I'm going to find you something decent to wear and take those clothes off while I do. Even looking at them on you makes my head hurt."

Cara took off her dark-rimmed glasses and began to take off her white shirt and green tanktop. Her arms were sunken but held a strong muscle tone through out her forearms. Her breasts were plump and sat perfectly in her black bra. Her stomach was defined but discolored from bruises and scars on her hips. She took off her jeans, revealing her black panties, torn and ripped on one side. Her inner thighs were covered in small white lines, that populated close to her crotch, some of which were thick with scar tissue from how deep she would cut, trying to cut the pain away.

Teresa turned around and found Cara in her panties and bra. "My god, child. You need to work on those scars there. You can't wear skirts if you don't." Cara shrugged off her comments. Cara learned that with Teresa being the future sister-in-law, she learned quickly to ignore her suggestions. Teresa scanned her closet. "Here, I found something that may work." She pulled out a white summer dress with green flowers. Teresa held it up to Cara's petite body and smiled. "That should work. And let your hair down it will help with the cool breeze."

Cara scanned the dress and gently shook her head as Teresa closed the door to ler her dress. She put on the dress and let her hair cascade past her shoulders. The waves made it have volume so with her hands she tossed it up from the crown down to the root. The top was a little stretched out from Teresa's puberty sprout of large breasts. Cara made due and looked within the mirror and stared. The dress brought out the green within her eyes and the dress flared out at the bottom, reavealing her knees. Cara looked at the shoes laying in front of the vanity; white pumps with ankle straps. The one thing that Cara never got along with was high heels. She snaked her feet into the shoes, tighted the straps and looked back within the mirror. She felt uncomfortable that her arms were exposed, like she was naked in front of the mirror. She closed her eyes and exhausted a breath. She opened her eyes and her mouth dropped. She saw her self standing in the mirror with her arms wrapped around Freddy as he smiled and combed her hair with his blades. "All grown up," he said as he smelled her hair. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the aroma. Cara looked away immediately and shook her had violently. She looked back and saw her standing alone. She was breathing heavily and decided to head downstairs, hopefully Teresa and Mark would finally look at her and consider her a part of the family.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry guys if I have been rushing through a few of the chapters. This is all based on a dream so I had to get the parts that I saw and then elaboate later. This gets a little disgusting and very graphic. **

Cara sat on the acclaimed brown leather chiliean couch and observed other men and women greet Mark and his boisterous fiance. The men stood proud in their pricey tuxes ranging from brown, blue and the ever popular black. She felt like it was more of a funeral than of joy as she saw more black tuxes flowed through the main entrance of the house. "This is a funeral," she thought to herself, "Nothing like getting married to Chatty Cathy. That's enough to throw my head into the wall." She rolled her eyes at Teresa. Cara knew her for almost 3 years before deciding to marry Mark. It was after the time he caught her with another man in their bed, flailing and screaming in ectasy; after the time he caught her on the couch with the next door neighbor with her head between his legs and his shaft in her mouth, pulsating as she pulled up and down; after she decided to burn the living room after her lit joint met with the three thousand dollar laid carpet. After she pleaded with him that she was sorry, that she loved him and everything that she did was a mistake, he welcomed her in open arms. Everytime. If Cara's father was still alive, Mark would have never been with her for this long; or even taken her back from the first encouter with her infedelity. She felt the most hatred towards Teresa but always kept her mouth shut. Cara knew that Mark did love her and despite the fact he was an idiot for taking her back for her wrong doings, Cara admired Mark for his continued devotion he would show her. At times, Cara would catch Teresa eyeing another man or give a shot of her upper leg or bend over where her shirt would become tight from her breasts and her cleavage lead the onlooker down a path of could see that Mark was smiling, keeping quiet like he was told and Teresa was just gabbing at the mouth with the martini held her in hand. She laughed with a high pitched squeal followed by a cackle that made Cara's ear's ring. She looked at the other guests and found them very identical to Teresa's enuendoes. The women in their high skirts and billowing shirts, showing wrinkled skin and liver spots upon the women's chest and cleavage. The men had one hand on a drink and another in a pocket, feeling themselves to get a rise of the women trying to advance. Even Cara found a older man sitting across from her with his legs apart, staring at her. She could see that the buldge in his pants was more rounded than pointed. She saw the buldge pulse and the smile crept across the man's face, showing his tobacco stained teeth as he ran his wretched tounge across the top front row. Cara started to feel the acid bubbling in her stomach and knew she couldn't sit there any longer. The man then suddently started to reposition himself and she saw his hand run into his pocket and began to repostioned his boner. For what seemed like a while, he just kept looking at her and fumbling in his right pants pocket. Soon enough, Cara jolted from her seat and approached him, whipering into his ear.

"If you don't not stop staring at me with your two inch pathetic excuse of a dick, I'm going to make sure that you will leave this fuckin' party without your partner." She looked down toward his pants and she opened her mouth and slammed her teeth together, making the horrid clap as the bones hit each other. The man shivered and manuvered himself toward the party, away from Cara. Cara felt the smile run across her face and she walked away and proceeded up the stairs.

The loud laughing and talking was beginning to die down as she walked the marbled sighed and felt relieved with the slam of Teresa's bedroom door. She slipped out of the pasty white shoes and found her clothes neatly gathered at the end of Teresa's bed. She slithered out of the dress and felt more at least as she felt her own clothes on her skin. She opened the door and went down the hallway, leaving the dress cumbled on the floor. She found another bedroom that felt more herself as she closed the door slowly. She ploped onto the bed, feeling the sensation of sleep yet again. She yawned and exhausted her air as she fell between the pillows.

With what seemed a second, she opened her eyes to find herself in a boiler room. Pipes around her, expelling steam and moisture, dripping onto the concrete floor, she herself felt the cold, wet residue upon her jeans and hands. She got up and looked around her surroundings. The air was heavy with smoke and soot. With no light hardly within the room, she couldn't find a way out of this damp maze of pipes. Her eyes beamed over her glasses as she scanned in front of her. She moved her feet slowly as she advanced toward a metal door. She singed as the dripping water hit her shoulders, burning her delicate skin. The hissing of the pipes was defaning as Cara's pace quickened.

"Caroline...," whispered a raspy voice. She turned around quickly and looked. Nothing. She turned back around and found Freddy's smile in front of her. She backed away and he stepped forward. For every step she took back, he took forward. "Where are you going, piggy?" he asked softly. He breathing was eratic and heavy.

"Why am I here," asked Cara in a low sutble tone. "You're here, because I chose you," replied Freddy, "You show much potential to me and I need to see if you are willing or not. I'm more focused on the not." He said as his bladed hand trailed down her arm. Cara shuddered at his tickled touch. For some odd reason she felt a warming presence within his touch. He clasped her hand within his bladed hand and giggle slightly, "You know, you're not like the other girls who find themselves within this hell, as they call it. You seem to find it appealing." he said calmly, examining her face. His left hand raised up and caressed her cheek, where her scar was scabbed and healing. His touch was rough and scaled with dead skin and scars. She moved her head away from his touch and felt his temper flare.  
"What's wrong with me touching your face? It's better than having this race across your pretty skin." He ungipped her hand and trailed one of his blades down her arm, leaving a long trail of red in his path. She gasped at the pain and moaned quietly. Freddy's face upturned and looked puzzled.

"That's different," he replied, "Usually girls don't moan when I have my blade touch their skin. They usually scream, cry, or just growl at me. Either way I found it rather arousing." He licked his lips and flicked his tongue between his rotting black teeth. "I told you that once you know my name, you should remember me," he said walking away slowly, "What do you remember?"

Cara stood there holding her arm as the blood flowed through her fingers onto her nails, dripping to the floor in a slow rhythm. "I remember a pre-school yard; I'm sitting on the curb and I hear kids singing a stupid song of Cutting Caroline...assholes. I remember a man, taking my hand and leading me to a dark room in another building. I smiled all the way to that room. The man russled with something in some boxes, and I heard metal being hit upon with a hammer, I guess. Then nothing."

Freddy's smile returned to his face. "Do you know why you were in that room? Do you know what that guy had such an interest in you that he brought you to that room?" Cara thought to herself and shook her head. Freddy walked over to her, looking deeply into her eyes. "Look hard enough, Cara, and you will see who that man was and why you were there." She searched his eyes and sank into them as she saw the room again.

Cara felt herself back onto that dirty matress and saw the man in the same sweater Freddy wore. She lookeda round and on to herself. She wasn't wearing her jeans anymore, just a tattered blue dress that was really high upon her man turned and her eyes widened. Freddy smiled gently at Cara, trailing his eyes up and down her outfit. His brown hair covered all of his head and his skin was smooth, dirty with soot and soil. His teeth were white and his eyes were the same icy-blue.

"It was you, " Cara snaped. He nodded in compliance. "You see, what you remember is what they told you; the parents, cops, and therapists. Only I can show you what happened in this very room. The truth that will set you free. The one notion to show if you are a ascet to me or if you are just a expendable little bitch." He walked over in his chunky brown boots, _thump, thump_. He lowered himself to Cara's side. He caressed her face, and smelled her neck, exhaling sharply. "This is what happened, my Cara."

His hand was around her neck, closing off her air as she scrambed to fight him. He sat on top of her, removing her ability of moving. He raised her skip wit the flick of his wrist and saw the pristine white panties before him. He giggled as she continue to struggle. " Do you remember now, Cara. You still smell the same after all these years. He pressed his weight off of her and he turned her onto her stomach and felt his full body upon her back. Cara grunted and screamed as she tried to free herself. "Screaming only intensifies the sensation, bitch." He reached back with his hand upon the back of her neck and ripped the panties from underneath her, revealing her smooth ripe ass. Freddy cackled as he stared in wonder of her. She tried grabbing his sweater but only ripped a small portion of the chest. She was then flipped over again and her arms were pressed against the mattress. He manuvered her arms into a one-hand grip and let his other hand slide down her stomach to her inner thigh. He pulled apart her lips and felt that she was moistened to his touch. He found her white nub and began to rub vigerously. She started to flail violently. "Get the fuck off of me, you sick bastard."

Freddy looked up, "Those are words I know so well. Try again, bitch." The ending of the word she felt a sharp pain and pressure as his fingers entered her warm secret. She gasped and groaned in pain. The pain then subsided and she felt a keen feeling. She felt this before. She's been through this.

"You did this to me when I was a child, you stole my innocence, " she said as he was trusting harder and quicker. "Uh-_huh_. I sure did take it and I am doing it again." She felt him quicken his pace and she felt the fire burn within her. The tingling sensation traveled through her arms and legs. She fought the urge to concentrate on how to get out of his hold. Freddy's gaze laid upon his fingers as they were glazed in clear liquid. "Wet, aren't you bitch?" he asked as again his pace quicken, adding additonal fingers within penetration. Cara stifled a moan as she tried to focus keeping her eyes from going into the back of her eyes. She saw her left leg was glisenting with a metal blade. She turned her feet and manuvered her toes to grab the blade and felt the sides catch into the sides as the blood began to fall. She screamed and jabbed the crude metal into Freddy's side. He screamed and pulled his fingers from within her, releasing her pin as he grabbed the metal and tore it from his side.

"You are going to fucking pay, Freddy. I trusted you with every ounce of my being and you repay me with a finger fuck? What in your pathetic mind thought that doing this to a child, to me, was a way to get yourself off. Look at your pants, you are already stained in your own juices!" Freddy looked down and saw his buldge and a large wet stain from the top of his shaft. He grimiced and looked up at Cara. His face then distored as the flames came back onto his skin and revealed the burned flesh she knew so well. "You are going to fucking pay, you little cunt." He reached for her neck with both hands extended with the sticky residue of Cara on his fingers.

"Why in the fuck did you need me to see this; to do this to me?" she screamed. Freddy stopped and looked at her. Licking his fingers of her scent, he finally said "Your place is here. You are not welcomed anywhere else. No one loves you but me. You are my bitch ever since you were a little girl, and a ripe one at that."

Cara started to feel a rage building with her chest that soon traveled to her stomach. Her tears welled into her eyes and felt the ongoing presence that she never felt before. After all the times she would cut herself from anger, hurt, resentment, jealousy; this emotion proved that she couldn't cover with just a scar.

**I'll get to the rest of the story later. That's all I have right now. I'll be working on this soon.**


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